


Blissful Unawareness and Unconsciousness

by robinsword



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, Let Bruce Banner Rest, M/M, Obliviousness, POV Bruce Banner, POV Thor (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinsword/pseuds/robinsword
Summary: At the time of the Avengers beginning, after the battle ends, Thor is the one to retrieve Bruce from the rubble. And then again in the next battle. And again. And again. At some point it turns into an unspoken, but widely accepted, role amongst the Avengers for him alone to carry out. He doesn't mind; it was never a burden to begin with and later on it becomes a matter of caring for someone that he holds very dear.Meanwhile, wrapped in a red cape and wiped out by the transformations, Bruce remains oblivious to it all.---...he can hear the soft crunch of rubble as someone makes their way towards where his prone form is sprawled across the ground. Behind his closed eyelids he sees their shadow fall over him.He feels a warm hand on his arm as they crouch down next to him...."I've got you Bruce."





	Blissful Unawareness and Unconsciousness

**Author's Note:**

> The classic "wrap him up in your cape" trope for thorbruce that I've been meaning to write for over a year.

When Bruce resurfaces, to the edge of consciousness, it’s to warm fabric wrapped around him. Strong arms holding him, lifting him. Soft voice reassuring him.

“I’ve got you, Banner.”

He can’t for the life of him think who it is. Probably one of the crazy people he met this week. One of those warriors or spies or scientists or gods.

Well. Hopefully not one of the gods. Through the messy tangle of Hulk memories being pushed back into the forefront of his brain, he thinks he can gather that he smashed both of them into the ground.

But it’s not like the spies would be any more comforting. In fact, it would most likely be worse. One - and he doubts this is her because even through the haze he knows he’s floating higher than she could probably lift him - had done her job well, manipulating him and so earning his mistrust, which isn’t going to go away any time soon. Not to mention he’d likely scared the life out of her with the fall in the Helicarrier, or at least that’s what he remembers. And the other spy… wasn’t he under mind control? Now that he thinks about it, he’s sure he saw him in the moment just before he gave up to Hulk again.

Willingly.

Now that was a first. It makes his head hurt to think about.

He suddenly decides, as the pain builds, it’s not worth considering the other possibilities because none of them make him feel great and it’s probably the notion of being carried by anyone at all that’s doing it. It’s new and it’s dangerous and it’s easier to wake up alone.

So maybe he shouldn’t wake up at all.

At least not right now. Not when he can give in to the blissful, painless state of unawareness that is clawing at his consciousness.

So he does.

…

Thor looks down at the man tucked securely into the grip of one arm. It’s fortunate that Banner is of a much smaller stature than some of the other warriors that he’s carried from the battlefield in his time. It gives him a free arm to summon Mjolnir and then carry the two away from the crater he’d discovered Banner in.

The small device - one that Stark had given him before the battle began - vibrates in his ear as a voice speaks. 

“Anyone found Banner yet?”

“I have him here,” Thor responds amongst the chorus of negatives. Someone sighs, sounding relieved.

“We should probably get him to the helicarrier so SHIELD can—”

“No,” Stark’s voice - which Thor recognises so distinctly already, as a result of listening to him chatter so much - drowns out the other. “Bring him to the tower. I have a medical room lower down that escaped the damage.”

It takes only a moment for Thor to consider and accept the proposition, changing his flight course accordingly.

There’s several minutes left before he reaches his destination - Hulk had taken Banner quite far away after he’d saved Stark’s life - but Thor’s in no rush to arrive. It gives him time to think. Of home. Of Loki. Of the ‘Avengers’.

He looks at the one in his arms again. Banner is still out of it, having not stirred since the brief moment of half-lucid consciousness he’d displayed when Thor had finally found him. Apparently the transformations took a lot out of him. Even more so when it’s done twice in one day. He thinks back to the helicarrier. Of his own fight with the powerful, green, hulking creature… ah, yes. Wasn’t that the name Captain Rogers used for him?

The ‘Hulk’ had worn him down enough to allow Thor to fall for Loki’s final trap. If it weren’t for Mjolnir, Thor would most likely have not made it to see this battle at all. And yet Thor still owes him for his brother’s defeat.

Of all the things that Thor was expecting to find in Midgard, he couldn’t have imagined anything like Banner.

When he finally arrives, he bypasses the door and goes straight to the balcony, to where Loki had thrown him. After he stabbed him, just like the old days of their youth. Not that they are actually considered very old by Asgardian standards… despite however much Thor is starting to feel like he is.

The echo of his boots reverberate around the empty room as he enters and then stops when he reaches the centre.

It’s another crater. Created by Loki and, more notably, by the very creature he holds right now.

A small, humourless laugh escapes him. He’s not sure how to feel about this. This whole event has been a struggle and yet… exhilarating. Perhaps it’s because he’s finally back on Earth, after having gone so long aways. To the point where he’d given up hope that he’d return.

“Good afternoon, Thor.”

Thor doesn’t jump - he’s been trained for years to expect surprises everywhere, mostly from living with Loki - but the voice does surprise him. He purses his lips and furrows his brow, confused but deciding there’s not much else to do but to answer.

“Good afternoon, Voice.”

“I am JARVIS.” Thor swears the voice almost sounds amused. But it’s so fractional, it’s hard to tell. JARVIS continues, “Mr Stark has asked me to direct you to the medical bay while he finishes his phone conversation with Director Fury. This way, please.”

A light appears above a door. It would seem that, while damaged, Stark’s tower is still functional. With a little power in his legs, Thor jumps over the crater - now that he’s here he just wants to get inside quickly so that he (and Banner) can rest.

The door leads to a tiny, windowless room and for a second Thor is confused and hesitant to go into such a small space. It only appears to have one door too. But he’s had a long day and he could probably smash his way out if it’s a trap so he steps inside. The doors slide closed of their own accord. For a moment nothing happens and then, suddenly, the floor begins a slight shudder. There’s a sensation of movement and it finally clicks with Thor what this is. Transportation. Similar to one he’s seen in other realms.

Elevators are universal. Even if this one is a little underwhelming.

When the door opens he finds a long corridor awaiting him. A light appears on a door at the end, just to his right.

“Mr Stark uses this for his own medical requirements,” JARVIS explains as he enters. There’s only one bed in the room, surrounded by several unusual monitors that he vaguely recognises from his first time on earth. In the hospital.

He shudders. That hadn’t been one of his finer moments.

The sound of the elevator opening pierces his thoughts and Stark appears in the doorway.

“Snug.” He gestures to Banner, referring to the red cape wrapped tightly around him. Thor isn’t one to be shy, but he had suspected that Banner would appreciate having his dignity kept so he had covered him with the only material he had.

He says so to Stark. In a manner of speaking.

“He was naked.”

“Ah.” Stark’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes but his demeanor is friendly. They’re all tired.

After pulling back the sheets on the bed, Thor lowers Banner onto the mattress. On the other side, Stark tucks him back in, while Thor - after a moment's pause - pulls the cape from under him and bundles it up into his arms. There’s streaks of dust and dirt on it now but at least it did the job. It’s not like he has any ceremonies or celebrations to attend in it.

“Fury said he’s going to keep the council pre-occupied until we all make ourselves scarce,” Stark tells him, hands in his pockets. “I’m gonna offer to take Banner down to Malibu with me tomorrow. He can stay at my house. At least until he figures out how and where he wants to go.”

Thor nods, not really looking at Stark. For some reason he still can’t quite seem to take his tired eyes away from Banner. Stark doesn’t appear to notice. In fact he seems to be busy looking at the monitor by Banner’s bedside. He clears his throat, forcing himself to look away. “Good to know he’ll be looked after.”

Stark nods back in a similar fashion of minute movement and glazed eyes. Thinking. It’s only when he realises Thor is looking his way that he snaps out of it. “Loki,” He clicks his fingers lazily and points upwards. “They’ve got him secured if you…” He trails off.

“Ah, yes. I should go and… see to him.” Thor swings his arms, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden in their mutual  quietness right now. He heads towards the door, but keeps his face to Stark - and Banner - until the last minute, which forces him to walk backwards out of the room.

“Make sure he doesn’t escape again,” Stark calls as he makes his way into the elevator.

“I won’t,” Thor says simply as the doors close and all becomes quiet again.

The weight of the hefty, bundled-up cape is feather-light in his arms, now with the absence of Banner.

…

“You picked a really bad time to call it a day, my friend.”

There’s another rumble, and Thor manages to lunge forwards just in time to pull Banner out of the way of the chunk of ceiling that collapses inwards.

It has been many months since New York. In that time, Thor had gone home and retaken his position as guardian of the nine realms. But once the peace was made it was kept. And Thor became bored easily by the monotony of travelling through the Bifrost each day to check on realms that were content to throw him a feast and send him on his way. He longed for Earth. The knowledge that it was now possible to return made it even harder to resist temptation than before.

Eventually, he gave in.

...And landed himself right in the thick of an Avengers battle. Or near enough. It began less than an hour after his arrival and Rogers had informed him that they’d been expecting it. Some long forgotten army of fanatics that were intent on taking their place in the world. Which, in their eyes, seemed to be on top of it.

Fortunately, it wasn’t New York this time. Thor hates to think of the people having to suffer twice. The Avengers had been called out of the city in anticipation of this personal attack for the very reason of minimising collateral damage.

Thor coughs some of the dust out of his lungs and readjusts his grip under Banner’s arms to heft him up further.

Of course they hadn’t quite made it to somewhere inhabited before the attack and this had proven quite problematic, especially when the Hulk had already been factored in.

Even more unfortunate, is that there had been a lull in the battle this last hour. They had thought the battle was won.

And so, apparently, had Hulk.

Thor, being the most robust of the group, had been elected to find wherever he had left Banner’s body in the mass of crumbling structure. A task that Thor doesn’t mind taking up at all. Banner weighs very little in his arms, especially with his Asgardian strength.

There’s a deafening boom and something shakes the building they’re in, causing more rubble to rain down on Thor and Banner.

The lull has been a false alarm. To be used as a trick or to genuinely regather, Thor is unsure. But now they were one Hulk short and he was trapped with one very limp, very vulnerable Banner in a collapsing structure.

Squinting his eyes through the dust, Thor marks out his path through gaps in the framework and the concrete to gauge his chances of getting the both of them out alive. It’s not impossible. It can’t be because Banner’s life is at stake. But he’ll have to be very quick. And possibly improvise his exit.

Banner shivers.

Once again, Thor becomes painfully aware of how bare a transformation leaves the man. Exposed. Thor can’t really imagine being in a position where he would allow himself to become so vulnerable. But Banner does it. Risks his dignity and his well-being to help stop those who would bring harm on the innocent.

Thor has to admit that he has a little admiration for the man.

Banner shivers again and this time Thor can feel the draft too, creeping down the collar of his armour and along his spine. With one hand, he reaches to his shoulder and detaches his cape once more, like he did all those months ago, and wraps Banner up tightly so that the wind can get to him no more.

“You’re lucky I like you, Banner,” Thor mutters to himself, getting himself into position. Then it’s a running start and one, two, three leaps over a mountain of rubble. At the top, he pushes off, jumping as far as he can and keeping horizontal. One arm holds Banner tightly to his chest, the other outstretched. In the distance, a faint sigh of air being displaced grows louder.

Suddenly, the wall he’s about to hit bursts open. He ducks his head, shielding both his eyes and Banner’s head from the chunks of stone that hurtle towards them, just as his hand wraps around the familiar handle of Mjolnir.

Now he’s in control and he weaves and ducks under falling debris with ease, a practiced flight maneuver here and there to get them through the tight gaps.

Finally, they emerge from the outside, the warmth of both the autumn sun and nearby explosions sending heat rippling over Thor. He looks down at Banner.

Dirty, shivering and will probably be feeling rather weak when he finally wakes. But in one piece.

Thor smiles.

…

“Thor, you’re up.”

“No, I can go - ow ow ow - ch!”

Thor gives Clint his best sympathetic look but it has nothing on Natasha’s stern glare.

“You need stitches,” she scolds him, holding Clint’s bicep in an iron grip as she studies the bleeding wound. She spares Thor a glance and, almost imperceptibly, raises one eyebrow. It’s hard to tell whether she’s studying him critically or trying to express amusement or trying to be stern. Thor has come to learn that she does this on purpose. It’s part of her job. Her life. She continues, “Besides… getting Bruce is Thor’s job.”

“It is?” Thor remarks casually but crosses his arms, slightly self-conscious for some reason.

“Yes.” Thor turns around to see Tony behind him, suit still on but looking pleased and at ease. “Although we should probably clue Bruce in on that some time. He never seems to ask who does it but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind knowing it’s you.”

Now that is definitely a suggestive eyebrow raise. But Thor can’t really argue with that.

Over the year since his return to Earth (Earth being the planet he spends the most time these days, between brief checks on the welfare of the other realms - he still has duties) Thor and the Avengers had grown closer. Rogers and Stark and Banner had, at some point that Thor can’t recollect, become Steve and Tony and… Bruce.

Bruce had certainly become as close to him as any of the other Avengers but there was - and is - something different between them. Thor certainly feels like he spends the most time with Bruce. It’s how he came to know the more complex version of what was once to him a man who simply became a Hulk.

For one, Bruce is smart. Genius level actually, he’d discovered, both personally and through talks with Tony and Natasha. The personal moments of witnessing Bruce’s intelligence were Thor’s favourite. There’s a passion in Bruce that Thor, for the longest time, hadn’t realised was there. Especially with.. what was revealed during their bickering in the helicarrier, all that time ago. Thor’s seen too many warriors lose their spark of passion through hardships such as Bruce’s… But Bruce’s passion for his work lights up his eyes behind those slightly crooked glasses. (His newest pair that had somehow survived several months now and as such Bruce refuses to buy a new pair, claiming them to be good luck, which is the first display of faith Thor has seen in him since the day they met.) And while Thor didn’t - and still doesn’t - quite understand everything that Bruce says, he always listens with rapt attention. Sometimes he even learns a few things. Hel, sometimes Bruce learns from him, for a thousand years of existence has left him quite a bit of knowledge, if he does say so himself.

Bruce’s intelligence and life experience has also managed to give him a subtle wit and dry humour that Thor finds endearing. But there’s still compassion and warmth in him, which he shows Thor much of, and so Thor tries to give in return. Through listening to his excited ramblings. Through evenings spent exchanging stories and memories that Thor hadn’t realised he was holding so close to his heart until he said them out loud to Bruce.

And yes, Thor tried to give love to Bruce through acting as his unofficial, but constant, retriever after battle.

Each time, Thor would scour the empty battlefield, under rubble and in craters around Hulk’s last sighting. Once there, he’d cover Bruce with the only piece of cloth he has on hand - each time as far as he can remember it’s been his cape - and carry Bruce away to somewhere comfortable that he can awake in. But neither Thor nor his cape are there during the wake up. As Tony said: Bruce simply doesn’t know about the arrangement the Avengers have in leaving Thor to collect him each time.

Speaking of which…

Thor, puts a fist to his mouth and clears the awkwardness from his throat. “Well. I’d better go and fetch him then.” He summons Mjolnir and prepares to take off.

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Tony says just before he does. “J says Hulk’s gamma signature wasn’t present for long. He can’t have gotten far.”

With a nod of thanks for the information, Thor spins Mjolnir and takes off into the sky.

Indeed, the path of specific damage that Hulk often leaves in his wake is minimal. Only one area in particular seems to have a trench, often created during a rough landing. He considers it for a moment and then decides, with nowhere else standing out to him, that it’s as good a place as any.

Hopefully, he knows Hulk well enough by now to have his instincts lead him back  to Bruce.

…

Once again, Bruce finds himself on the foggy end of a post-Hulk awakening. And yet…

It feels as if there’s just slightly less pressure in his aching muscles, like they haven’t been stretched and battered as much as he has come to expect. Even his senses are a little sharper, his ears not ringing as loudly as they often do when Hulk’s roars echo back to him in his mind.

And with these functioning senses, he can hear the soft crunch of rubble as someone makes their way towards where his prone form is sprawled across the ground. Behind his closed eyelids he sees their shadow falls over him.

He feels a warm hand on his arm as they crouch down next to him.

Before he has a chance to get his body functioning again, there’s a ruffle of material and the familiar weight of a blanket (the same one, he vaguely remembers, that they always put around him) settles on his body.

Hands go under him, lifting him.

“I’ve got you, Bruce.”

Eyelids flutter open. —

“Thor?” he slurs.

Thor looks down at him, surprise in his wide eyes.

“Bruce…” He glances around the area they’re in, eyes straying for a moment on the main points of structure they’re beneath, before he gives Bruce a small smile. “I didn’t realise you’d be awake. I was going to carry you, but if you can stand —”

“Yeah…” Bruce nods, already slipping out of Thor’s arms to his feet. But it seems his legs have not quite caught up with the program yet. They’re about as stable as jell-o and slipping out of Thor’s arms turns into a slow slide back down onto the ground, only to be halted by Thor’s hand securing its grip under his arm again. Bruce’s fingers dig in to the cape around him tightly to prevent it falling too, while the other hand clings to Thor’s shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, Bruce half crouched and practically hanging from the back of Thor’s neck. He looks up to give him a wry smile.

“Maybe I’m not… completely awake yet…”

Thor blinks. And stares. And Bruce can’t fathom what that expression means but he sure is doing it. And Bruce is probably doing it back, if in a more lopsided, tired way. The spell is broken by the cape slipping a little out of his fingers and he has to look down to make sure that he isn’t about to drop it when he readjusts his grip.

“Um… would you mind —”

“— Is it alright if I carry you?”

The two of them begin talking at once and as a result neither one of them knows who’s turn it is to respond. But Bruce is the one with the Hulk addled brain and lowered inhibitions, so he goes for it again first.

“Of course. That would be… very helpful, actually.”

It’s like he weighs nothing to Thor when he’s lifted back into his arms. Which is probably accurate; Bruce has seen him catch a building before to slow its collapse, and he doesn’t doubt there are other instances that he’s missed while being Hulk. It’s a little bit of a shame, actually. Bruce likes watching Thor in action. It’s… awe-inspiring. Thor is amazing.

Wait.

“Sorry,” Thor apologises as they jump over a large chunk of concrete and land with a jostle.

Oh yes. Being carried.

“I really appreciate you doing this.” He’s probably mumbling a little but again, all movement  he attempts feels like it’s being done through honey. “Carrying me,” he clarifies when Thor doesn’t respond immediately.

Bruce hears the fabric of the cape rub against the chest plate of Thor’s armour as Thor shrugs. “You’re no burden to me. I’ve done this enough times before.”

There’s a silence once again. Bruce’s brow is furrowed, trying to think through the muddle of Hulk memories and sensory input he’s getting on top of Thor’s statement. But he gets there.

They always put the same blanket around him. The same cape.

“Is it you every time?” He turns his head a fraction so that he can see Thor’s face, albeit from a low angle.

The silence stretches on just a millisecond long enough for Bruce to clock that it may have been Thor hesitating, before he gets a response.

“Often… well, most of the time, um, it’s usually me, yes.”

That sentence doesn’t make much sense to Bruce’s brain so he latches onto the last word and takes it as a yes.

“That’s nice of you,” he thinks, out loud. Realising what he’s done, he adds, “Thank you.” There. That’s not weird. Not anymore.

“...You’re welcome.” There’s a hint of a smile in the corners of Thor’s eyes.

The short journey back from there is mainly done in comfortable silence. Bruce gets the feeling that Thor could technically get them there faster by flying but Bruce doesn’t mind. In fact he’d rather like this moment to last.

If he closes his eyes just before they reach the other Avengers, Thor doesn’t comment. Just lets Bruce stay where he is — where he’s comfortable, in Thor’s arms — as they board the Quinjet. As they enter the tower. As they enter Bruce’s room.

Thor leaves the cape around him this time, a first as far as Bruce can recall. It’s good. A soft material and it holds body heat well. An additional sheet is pulled over his body but he keeps a one handed grip on the cape.

But as he hears the shift of Thor turning to leave and he reaches out the other hand instinctively to catch his hand in a soft grip.

Except it doesn’t quite reach and he ends up grasping at the hem of Thor’s… whatever the armour thing he always wears is called, Bruce is too tired to think right now. Even if it was only a short Hulk-out, the energy catches up to him eventually, all the same.

It does the trick though and Thor turns back to him, looking curious. Expecting a follow up, Bruce realises.

“You look tired,” is what comes out. At least it’s true. “You should sleep.”

Thor’s hands cross that space that Bruce hadn’t been able to cover and clasps Bruce’s hand in both of his own. “Don’t worry about me. I will.”

“...how about here?”

“What?” Thor tilts his head a fraction, confused.

Blurting out of context thoughts will do that, Bruce thinks.

“Sleep here.” He really has no inhibitions right now it would seem. He holds Thor’s gaze anyway, insistent.

Bruce sees the moment Thor’s eyes soften, when he gives in.

“All right.”

The large jutted out pieces of the armour are removed, which Bruce is grateful for, before Thor pulls back the sheet and climbs in next to him. Cautiously, his arms wrap around Bruce again and Bruce turns to do the same.

They fit together quite comfortably, which is no doubt somewhat owed to Tony’s choice in sizable beds. And the cape on Bruce’s shoulders isn’t bad either.

He lets his eyes slip shut again and the two of them, together, slip into the blissful peace of unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually also wrote this one for the ThorBruce Big Bang that, unfortunately, didn't go ahead. But it gave me plenty of motivation at the time and something to post today while I'm on a kind of hiatus, so I'd say it worked out just fine. 
> 
> Many thanks to my good friend Cosmo (Ancalime1) for being a brilliant beta.
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated.
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](https://asgardianbruce.tumblr.com/)


End file.
